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And, while with all a mother's love
She from the lofty rocks above
Sent forth a cry forlorn,
The Lamb, still swimming round and round,
Made answer to that plaintive sound.

When he had learnt what thing it was,
That sent this rueful cry; I ween,
The Itoy recover'd heart, and told
The sight which he had seen.
Both gladly now deferr'd their task;
Nor was there wanting other aid—
A Poet, one who loves the brooks
Far better than the sages' books,
By chance had thither stray'd;
And there the helpless Lamb he found
By those huge rocks encompass'd round.

He drew it gently from the pool,
And brought it forth into the light :
The Shepherds met him with his charge,
An unexpected sight!
Into their arms the Lamb they took,
Said they, a He's neither maim d nor scarr'd.”
Then up the steep ascent they hied,
And placed him at his Mother's side;
And gently did the Bard
Those idle Shepherd-boys upbraid,
And bade them better mind their trade.


O Thou! whose fancies from afar are brought;
Who of thy words dost make a mock apparel,
And fittest to unutterable thought
Tire breeze-like motion and the sclf-born carol;
Thou faery Voyager! that dost float
In such clear water, that thy Boat
May rather seem
To brood on air than on an earthly stream;
Suspended in a stream as clear as sky
where earth and heaven do make one imagery'
O blessed vision! happy Child!
That art so exquisitely wild,
I think of thee with many fears
For what may be thy lot in future years.

I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest, Lord of thy house and hospitality And Grief, uneasy Lover! never rest But when she sate within the touch of thee. Oh! too industrious folly! (*! vain and causeless melancholy! Nature will either end thee quite; or, lengthening out thy season of delight, Preserve for thee, by individual right, , A young Lamb's heart among the full-grown flocks. What hast Thou to do with sorrow, Or the injuries of to-morrow? Thou art a Dew-drop, which the morn brings forth, Ill fitted to sustain unkindly shocks; Or to be trail'd along the soiling earth! A gem that glitters while it lives, And no forewarning gives; But, at the touch of wrong, without a strife Slips in a moment out of life.



[This extract is reprinted from - Tar Fairsp, an unpublished Poem.]

Wisdom and Spirit of the Universe!
Thou soul, that art the Eternity of thought!
And givest to forms and images a breath
And everlasting motion not in vain,
Iy day or star-light, thus from my first dawn
Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me
The passions that build up our human soul;
Not with the mean and vulgar works of Man,—
But with high objects, with enduring things,
With life and nature; purifying thus
The elements of feeling and of thought,
And sanctifying by such discipline
Both pain and fear, until we recognise
A grandeur in the beatings of the heart.

Nor was this fellowship vouchsafed to me
With stinted kindness. In November days,
When vapours rolling down the valleys inade
A lonely scene more lonesome; among woods
At noon; and mid the calm of summer nights,
When, by the margin of the trembling Lake,
Beneath the gloomy hills, I homeward went
In solitude, such intercourse was mine :
T was mine among the ficlas both day and night,
And by the waters, all the summer long.

And in the frosty season, when the sun
Was set, and, visible for many a mile,
The cottage windows through the twilight blazed,
I heeded not the summons:—happy time
It was indeed for all of us; for me
It was a time of rapture!–Clear and loud
The village clock toll d six—I wheel'd about,
Proud and exulting like an untired horse
That cares not for his home.—All shod with steel
We hiss'd along the polish'd ice, in games
Confederate, imitative of the Chase
And woodland pleasures,-the resounding horn,
The Pack loud-bellowing, and the hunted hare.
So through the darkness and the cold we flew,
And not a voice was idle : with the din
Meanwhile the precipices rang aloud;
The leafless trees and every icy crag
Tinkled like iron; while the distant hills
Into the tumult sent an alien sound
of melancholy, not unnoticed, while the stars,
Eastward, were sparkling clear, and in the west
The orange sky of evening died away.

Not seldom from the uproar I retired
Into a silent bay,+or sportively
Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous throng,
To cut across the reflex of a Star,
Image, that, flying still before me, gleam'd
Upon the glassy plain : and oftentimes,
When we had given our bodies to the wind,
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still


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At times, while young Content forsook her seat, +

CoM posed. Upon LEAVING School.

DeAR native Regions, I foretell,
From what I feel at this farewell,
That, wheresoe'er my steps shall tend,
And whensoe'er my course shall end,
If in that hour a single tie
Survive of local sympathy,
My soul will cast the backward view,
The longing look alone on you.

Thus, when the Sun, prepared for rest,
Hath gained the precincts of the West,
Though his departing radiance fail
To illuminate the hollow Vale,
A lingering light he fondly throws
On the dear mountain-tops whese first he rose.


General Sketch of the Lakes—Author's Reqret of his Youth passed amongst them—short Description of Noon–Cascade Scene—Noon-tide Retreat—Precipice and sloping Lights—Face of Nature as the Sun declines Mountain Farm, and the Cock Slate Quarry—Sunset—Superstition of the Country, connected with that Moment—Swans—Female Beggar Twilight Sounds—oestern Lights—Spirits—Night —Moonlight—Hope—Night Sounds—Conclusion.

Fan from my dearest Friend, "t is mine to rove 1 hro' bare grey dell, high wood, and pastoral cove; where Derwent stops his course to Irtar the roar That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore; where silver rocks the savage prospect cheer of giant yews that frown on i: ydal's mere; where peace to Grasmere's lonely island leads, To willowy hedgerows, and to enerald meads; Leads to her bridge, rude church, and cottaged grounds, tier rocky sheepwalks, and her woodland bounds; where, deep embosond, shy' Winander peeps Mid clustering isles, and holly-sprinkled steeps; where twilight glens endear my Esthwaite's shore, And memory of departed pleasures, more.

Fair scenes' with other eyes, than once, I gaze Upon the varying charin your round displays, Than when, ere-while, I taught, “ a happy child,” The echoes of your rocks my carols wild: Then did no ebb of cheerfulness demand sad tides of joy from Melancholy’s hand; In vouth skeen eye the livelout; day was bright, The sun at morning, and the stars of night, Aloke, when heard the bittern's hollow bill, or the first woodcocks’ roam'd the moonlight hill.

In thoughtless gaiety I coursed the plain, And hope itself was all I knew of pain. For then, evu then, the little heart would beat

• These time, are only applicable to the middle part of that lake. * in the beginning of water ther monntains are frequeated by wo-l....., which in dark nights to ure into the woods.

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When, in the south, the wan moon, brooding still, Breathed a pale steam around the glaring hill, Aud shades of deep-embattled clouds were seen, Spotting the northern cliffs with lights between; When, at the barren wall's unshelter'd end, Where long rails far into the lake extend, Crowded the shorten’d herds, and beat the tides with their quick tails, and lash'd their speckled sides; when school-boys stretch'd their length upon the green; And round the humming elm, a glimmering scene In the brown park, in herds, the troubled deer Shook the still twinkling tail and glancing ear; when horses in the sunburnt intake" stood, And vainly eyed below the tempting flood, Or tracked the Passenger, in mute distress, With forward neck the closing gate to press— Then, while I wander'd up the huddling rill Brightening with water-breaks the sombrous ghyll,” As by enchantment, an obscure retreat Open'd at once, and stay'd my devious feet. While thick above the rill the branches close, In rocky basin its wild waves repose, Inverted shrubs, and moss of gloomy green, Cling from the rocks, with pale wood-weeds between ; Save that aloft the subtle sunbeams shine On wither'd briars that o'er the crags recline, Sole light admitted here, a small cascade, Illumes with sparkling foam the impervious shade; Heyond, along the vista of the brook, where antique roots its bustling course o'erlook, The eye reposes on a secret bridge” Half grey, half sha§§d with ivy to its ridge; whence hangs, in the cool shade, the listless swain Lingering behind his disappearing wain. —Did Sabine grace adorn my living line, Bandusia's praise, wild Stream, should yield to thine! Never shall ruthless ininister of Death | Mid thy soft glooms the glittering steel unsheath; No goblets shall, for thee, be crown'd with flowcra, No kid with piteous outcry thrill thy bowers; The mystic shapes that by thy margin rove A more benignant sacrifice approve; A mind, that, in a calm angelic mood of happy wisdom, meditating good, Echolds, of all from her high powers required, Much done, and much design'd, and more desired

the word intake is local, and signities a mountain inclosure.

* Ghyll is also. I believe, a term confined to this country : Glen, thyll, and dinole, have the same meaning.

• the reader who has made the tour of this country, will recognize, in this description, the features which characterize the lower waterfall in the grounds of its dale.

--- - - - -

Harmonious thoughts, a soul by truth refined, Entire affection for all human kind.

—Sweet rill, farewell! To-morrow's noon again Shall hide me, wooing long thy wildwood strain; But now the sun has gain'd his western road, And eve's mild hour invites my steps abroad.

While, near the midway cliff, the silver'd kite In many a whistling circle wheels her flight; Slant watery lights, from parting clouds, apace Travel along the Precipice's base; Cheering its naked waste of scatter'd stone, By lichens grey, and scanty moss, o'ergrown; Where scarce the foxglove peeps, or thistle's beard: And desert stone-chat, all day long, is heard.

How pleasant, as the sun declines, to view The spacious landscape change in form and hue! Ilere, vanish, as in mist, before a flood Of bright obscurity, hill, lawn, and wood; There, objects, by the searching beams betray'd, Come forth, and here retire in purple shade; Even the white stems of birch, the cottage white, Soften their glare before the mellow light; The skiffs, at anchor where with umbrage wide You chesnuts half the latticed boat-house hide, Shed from their sides, that face the sun's slant beam, Strong lakes of radiance on the tremulous stream: Raised by yon travelling flock, a dusty cloud Mounts from the road, and spreads its moving shroud; The shepherd, all involved in wreaths of fire, Now shows a shadowy speck, and now is lost entire.

Into a gradual calm the zephyrs sink, A blue rim borders all the lake's still brink: And now, on every side, the surface breaks Into blue spots, and slowly-lengthening streaks; Here, plots of sparkling water tremble bright With thousand thousand twinkling points of light; There, waves that, hardly weltering, die away, Tip their smooth ridges with a softcr ray, And now the universal tides repose, And, brightly blue, the burnish'd mirror glows, Save where, along the shady western marge, Coasts, with industrious oar, the charcoal barge; The sails are dropp'd, the poplar's foliage sleeps, And insects clothe, like dust, the glassy deeps.

Their pannier'd train a group of potters goad, Winding from side to side up the steep road; The peasant, from yon cliff of fearful edge Shot, down the headlong path darts with his sledge; Bright beams the lonely mountain horse illume, Feeding mid purple heath, a green" rings,” and broom; While the sharp slope the slacken'd team confounds, Downward the pond rous timber-wain resounds;” In foamy breaks the rill, with merry song, Dash'd o'er the rough rock, lightly leaps along; From lonesome chapel at the mountain's feet, Three humble bells their rustic chime repeat; Sounds from the water-side the hammerd boat; And blasted quarry thunders, heard remote!

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Not undelightful are the simplest charms, Found by the verdant door of mountain farms.

Sweetly" ferocious, round his native walks, Pride of his sister-wives, the monarch stalks; Spur-clad his nervous feet, and firm his tread; A crest of pusple tops his warrior head. Bright sparks his black and haggard eye-ball hurls Afar, his tail he closes and unfurls; Whose state, like pine-trees, waving to and fro, Droops, and o'er-canopies his regal brow; On tiptoe reard, he strains his clarion throat, Threaten’d by faintly-answering farms remote: Again with his shrill voice the mountain rings, While, flapp'd with conscious pride, resound his wings:

Brightning the cliffs between, where sombrous pine And yew-trees o'er the silver rocks recline; I love to mark the quarry's moving trains, Dwarf pannier'd steeds, and men, and numerous wains: How busy the enormous hive within, While Echo dallies with the various din . Some (hardly heard their chisels' clinking sound) Toil, small as pigmies in the gulf profound; Some, dim between the aereal cliffs descried, O'erwalk the slender plank from side to side: These, by the pale-blue rocks that ceaseless ring, Glad from their airy baskets hang and sing.

Hung o'er a cloud, above the steep that rears An edge all flame, the broad'ning sun appears; A long blue bar its egis orb divides, And breaks the spreading of its golden tides; And now it touches on the purple steep That slings his shadow on the pictured deep. 'Cross the calm lake's blue shades the cliffs aspire, With tow’rs and woods a “prospect all on fire;" The coves and secret hollows, through a ray of fainter gold, a purple gleam betray; The gilded turf invests with richer green Each speck of lawn the broken rocks between; Deep yellow beams the scatter'd stems illume, Far in the level forest's central gloom; Waving his hat, the shepherd, from the vale, Directs his winding dog the cliffs to scale, That, barking busy, mid the glittering rocks, Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks. Where oaks o'erhang the road the radiance shoots On tawny earth, wild weeds, and twisted roots; The Druid stones their lighted fame unfold, And all the babbling brooks are liquid gold; Sunk to a curve,” the day-star lessens still, wives one bright glance, and drops behind the hill.

In these secluded vales, if village fame, Confirmed by silver hairs, belief may claim; When up the hills, as now, retired the light, Strange apparitions mock'd the gazer's sight.

A desperate form appears, that spurs his steed Along the midway cliffs with violent speed; Unhurt pursues his lengthend flight, while all Attend, at every stretch, his headlong fall.

"f* Dolcemente feroce.--Tasso.-In this description of the coI remembered a spirited one of the same animal in the . Agriculture ou Les Georgiques Françaises, - of M. Rossuct.

* From Thomson. Sec Scott's Critical Essays.

She dragg'd her babes along this weary way;

Anon, in order mounts a gorgeous show
of horsemen shadows winding to and fro;
At intervals imperial banners stream,
And now the van reflects the solar beam,
The rear thro' iron brown betrays a sullen gleam;
Lost gradual, o'er the heights in pomp they go,
While silent stands th' admiring vale below;
Till, save the lonely beacon, all is fled,
That tips with eve's last glean his spiry head.

Now, while the solemn evening shadows sail, On red slow-waving pinions, down the vale; And, fronting the bright west, yon oak entwines, its darkening boughs and leaves, in stronger lines, How pleasant near the tranquil lake to stray where winds the road along a secret bay: By rills that tumble down the woody steeps, And run in transport to the dimpling deeps; Along the “wild meand'ring shore” to view Obsequious Grace the winding Swan pursue : He swells his lifted chest, and backward flings His bridling neck between his towering wings; In all the majesty of case, divides And glorying, looks around, the silent tides; On as he tloats, the silver'd waters (slow, Proud of the varying arch and moveless form of snow. While tender Cares and mild domestic Loves, With furtive watch pursue her as she moves; The Female with a meeker charm succeeds, And her brown little-ones around her leads, Nibblin; the water lilies as they pass, or playing wanton with the floating grass. She, in a mother's carc, her beauty's pride Forgets, unwearicq watching every side; She calls them near, and with affection sweet Alternately relieves their weary feet; Alternately they mount her back, and rest Close by her mantling wings' embraces prest.

Long may ye float upon these floods serene; Yours be these holms untrodden, still, and green, whose leafy shades fence off the blustering gale, where breathes in peace the lily of the vale. Yon Isle, which feels not even the milk-maid's feet, Yet hears her song, “ by distance made more sweet,” Yon isle conceals your home, your cottage bower, Fresh water-rushes strew the verdant floor; Long grass and willows form the woven wall, And swings above the roof the poplar tall. Thence issuing often with unwieldy stalk, with broad black feet ye crush your flowry walk; Or, from the neighbouring water, hear at morn The hound, the horse's tread, and mellow horn; involve your scrpent necks in changeful rings, Holid wantonly between your slippery wings, Or, starting up with noise and rude delight, Force half upon the wave your cumbrous flight.

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Or taught their limbs along the burning road A few short steps to totter with their load.

" see - description of an appearance of this kind in Clark's

I see her now, denied to lay her head, On cold blue nights, in hut or straw-built shed, Turn to a silent smile their sleepy cry, By pointing to a shooting star on high: I hear, while in the forest depth, he sees The Moon's fix’d gaze between the opening trees, In broken sounds her elder grief demand, And skyward lift, like one that prays, his hand, If, in that country, where he dwells afar, His father views that good, that kindly star; –Ah me! all light is mute amid the gloom, The interlunar cavern, of the tomb. —When low-lung clouds each star of summer hide, And fireless are the valleys far and wide, Where the brook brawls along the painful road, Dark with bat-haunted ashes stretching broad, Oft has she taught them on her lap to play Delighted, with the glow-worm's harmless ray Toss'd light from hand to hand; while on the ground Small circles of green radiance gleam around.

Oh! when the sleety showers her path assail, And roars between the hills the torrent gale. —No more her breath can thaw their singers cold, Their frozen arms her neck no more can fold; Weak roof a cowering form two babes to shield, And faint the fire a dying heart can yield' Press the sad kiss, fond mother! vainly fears Thy flooded cheek to wet them with its tears; No tears can chill them, and no bosom warms, Thy breast their death-bed, coffin'd in thine arms.

Sweet are the sounds that mingle from afar, Heard by calm lakes, as peeps the folding star, Where the duck dabbles 'mid the rustling sedge, And feeding pike starts from the water's edge, Or the swan stirs the reeds, his neck and bill Wetting, that drip upon the water still; And heron, as resounds the trodden shore, Shoots upward, darting his long neck before.

Now, with religious awe, the farewell light Blends with the solemn colouring of the night; "Mid groves of clouds that crest the mountain's brow, And round the West's proud lodge their shadows throw, Like Una shining on her gloomy way, The half-seen form of Twilight roams astray; Shedding, through paly loopholes mild and small, Gleams that upon the lake's still bosom fall, Soft o'er the surface creep those lustres pale Tracking the fitful motions of the gale. with restless interchange at once the bright Wins on the shade, the shade upon the light. No favour'd eye was eer allow'd to gaze On lovelier spectacle in faery days; When gentle Spirits urged a sportive chase, Brushing with lucid wands the water's face; While music, stealing round the glimmering deeps, Charm'd the tall circle of th' enchanted steeps. —The lights are vanished from the watery plains: No wreck of all the pageantry remains. Unheeded night has overcome the vales: On the dark earth the baffled vision fails; The latest lingerer of the forest train, The lone black fir, forsakes the faded plain; Last evening sight, the cottage smoke, no more,

****r of the Lakes, accompanied by vouchers of its veracity, that

asy ana-- the reader.

Lost in the thicken'd darkness, glimmers hoar;

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